


Home on a Heavenly Body

by Jemppu



Series: Honey Mushroom [42]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Culmets - Freeform, Fanart, M/M, honey mushroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemppu/pseuds/Jemppu
Summary: Part of"Honey Mushroom"series of Culmets momentslisted here on tumblr.Aka"Can I Go Here?"Paul is feeling amorous, Hugh is tired. A languid moment.Edit: realized this evokes an idea first explored in an illustration from couple years ago, "Riding Along". Now included at the end.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Series: Honey Mushroom [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1080993
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Home on a Heavenly Body

Hugh walks out of the bathroom and flumps down on the comfortingly inviting bed, exhausted after a full day of nonstop appointments, and few unexpected emergencies on top. He had been quite pleased to escape the sick bay and leave the delta shift for Tracy to oversee.  
  
"Ugh! Glad that day's finally over", he exclaims wearily to the man unusually early at home and in bed before Hugh himself; this is unprecedented, and sure feels special. And nice.  
  
Paul shuts the PADD he hasn't really been paying attention to for a while anyway, and turns side to snuggle closer to the doctor, appreciating the man in his usual, casually shirtless home attirelessness.  
  
"Aww...", Paul lets out a lamenting moan, while stroking Hugh's side, "I was really hoping there would be **some** of the day left still."  
  
Hugh sighs regretfully, recognizing the tone. "I'm **really** beat, Honey", he acknowledges the hopeful hand on him, appreciating Paul's intent, but hesitant about his own strength to reciprocate. Much as he loves the idea.  
  
The man keeps rubbing Hugh's side fondly. "Can I at least cuddle you?" Paul runs his fingers across Hugh's stomach to try and discreetly put his arms around the doctor. There hasn't been anything discreet about them ever since the augmentations.  
  
"Sure", Hugh accepts listlessly, his hand moving to calm down the enthusiastic digits busy on his midriff, "you can do what ever you wish, but I'm not going to move a muscle."  
  
"What **ever** I wish?" Paul leans over keenly to throw a sudden, playfully inquisitive smirk.  
  
"Mm-hmm...", Hugh agrees with a slight apprehension, sensing he might come to regret this still, but chooses not to see how it could really hurt either.  
  
Paul's long work nights - which unfortunately are more common than not - have made Hugh well aware of what it's like to wait on your love, only to have them come home and fall asleep on you. Often quite literally. The occasion of the man this eager and expectant seems too rare to completely overlook, and the idea of being cuddled to sleep by Paul too enticing to deny.  
  
Paul sits up and kneels over the reclined doctor, which is already an alertingly bold move, but Hugh - committed to his immobility - lets the man proceed.

Paul leans down, his lips starting to trace a path along Hugh's neckline. Kissing the scar he adores on the doctor's shoulder, catching the tiny pendant between his teeth, as has been habitual for the man as far back as Hugh can remember; the Starfleet Academy class pendant has rarely ever been off of the doctor since graduation, except after the several careless occasions now in the era of Paul, when the chain has had to have been repaired, because of this precise insistent practice. The man appears not bothered by or sorry for it in the least, and seems unable, or indeed unwilling, to mend his ways. And, if he's perfectly honest, Hugh himself doesn't mind it either; it's endearing as all.  
  
"Can I go here?" Paul mumbles with the tiny silver angel between his teeth.  
  
"You can", Hugh snickers at the redundancy of the question from a man already there. Paul better not be leaving more teeth marks on the pendant, the doctor thinks amused, and takes in the sensation of the man's lips caressing his neck, gently sucking on his collarbone.  
  
"May I go here?", Paul continues, his rogue tongue now trailing between Hugh's pectorals.  
  
"You may", Hugh exhales pleased, starting to warm up to the obvious seduction. Which is unfortunate, as he doesn't feel he'd have the energy. A bit aside, the man knows to gnaw exactly where it matters. A short, slight moan escapes Hugh.

"And here?" Paul's lips trace downwards, now around Hugh's belly button. "Mm-hmm", Hugh manages a faint approval, hesitant for how far to let this go, while savoring the tiny pleasant tremors travelling across his abdominal muscles as the man explores his navel enthusiastically, his tongue doing some amazingly titillating, heavy probing. Stars, that's good.  
  
While the wildly suggestive deep excavation continues, Hugh feels Paul's hands play with the waistband of his pajama pants. "How about here?", the man heaves against the doctor's belly, slipping his fingers juuust underneath...  
  
"Honeeey...", Hugh lets out a wearily pleading refusal, feeling tempted and defenseless against the compelling allure, but also aware how this is as far as he should let the man go before stopping could prove cruelly tortuous, "I do appreciate the effort, but I really don't have the energy right now."  
  
Paul leans his chin on Hugh's stomach, and pouts his lips, knowing full well what to do with his clear blue, boyish eyes.  
  
"Ugh, Honey, **please**!", Hugh moans and throws his head back to avert his eyes from the beseeching gaze looking up at him, and those gorgeously pale lashes patting at him expectantly. "That's just **low** ", Hugh laughs, tired, but delighted by the man's both comfortingly and irritatingly intimate knowledge of his weaknesses.  
  
"Fine", Paul relents and leans forward to lie on top of Hugh, his head relaxing on the firmness of the doctor's chest. His hands retract from pursuing their intended destination with a playful snap of the waistband, and come to rest higher on Hugh's waist.  
  
Hugh appreciates the cool softness of the fabric of Paul's T-shirt between them. There's a good quiet moment, while Hugh feels Paul's thumbs skimming across his skin anxiously with those tiny circling movements the man does. He senses the man's contemplation, and is expecting to hear something soon.  
  
Paul's fingers come to a decisive halt, and despite Hugh's preparedness, what the man utters catches the doctor by surprise.  
  
"Can I suck you?", Paul blurts out matter-of-factly.  
  
"...what?", Hugh lifts his head up enough to try and get a reading of the man's face. But the angle allows him no such advantage.  
  
"Uh... really, Honey, you don't need to do that", Hugh replies perplexed, knowing his man's usual reluctance on the matter, and sensing an appeasing gesture of some sort.  
  
"No. But I'd really like to", Paul lifts his gaze to meet Hugh's eyes pleadingly. Convincing.  
  
Really? Hugh sighs. Of all the rare times it had to be now the man indicates self-initiated interest for it.  
  
"That's unfair. You know I'd love you to", Hugh groans with disbelieving laughter in his tone, wary that if he'll pass this now it might not come again as willingly who knows when ever, "Can we schedule a launch delay for that?"  
  
Paul groans in displeased defeat, matching Hugh's own sentiment, and shifts awkwardly on top of the doctor.  
  
"I know, Mushroom", Hugh chuckles commiseratingly to their shared frustration, "But I really don't think I can be turned tonight."  
  
Paul releases a lengthy, pining sigh. "It's quite okay", he rests himself back down, defeated, and hugs Hugh softly, "I do get that."  
  
He really does, doesn't he. Unexpectedly, Hugh finds himself with certain new understanding for all the times they had been here before, with roles reversed.  
  
The sudden tender silence of the man securely on top of him has Hugh falling into blissful relaxation. Paul feels as if lost in listening to the calm of the doctor's steady heart beat. Hugh closes his eyes contently to the familiar warm weight embracing him. Tonight he would not mind the man falling asleep just like this.  
  
"Do I dare ask how your day went?" Paul stirs carefully, his fingers slowly tracing the shape of Hugh's pectoral muscle with caressing fascination. From Paul's current chest-level point of view, Hugh's nipple looks like a mountain in the far distance beyond a curvature of beautifully smooth plains; one of his many favorite views on planet Hugh.  
  
Hugh sighs for the heartwarmingly considerately presented question, appreciative, but wishing not to sour the mood with recollections of the rush he is happy to have just survived, "Well. It was quite unexpectedly hectic...", Hugh begins hesitantly.

"..."  
  
"...and you rather not think about it?" Paul's tender voice comes valiantly to fill the doctor's deliberate pause, while a massive, closely manicured exploration probe lands on the firm, high plains, crushing the excitedly taut mountain under it's gentle weight.  
  
Hugh smiles. Of course the man would get that too, constantly struggling with such a hectic work load himself, and juggling immeasurable amounts of problems in his head at any given time. Except perhaps precisely in moments of passion, a rare occasion when the man can free himself; throw his accumulated burdens aside, and let his more basic instincts take over.

That, and in his most liberating inspirational highs. So Hugh has gathered.  
  
"No. I'd rather not think of it right now", the doctor admits, brushing his fingers through the man's pleasantly soft hair, realizing it unusually free of product; Paul must've taken a shower before Hugh got home. Possible significance of which makes Hugh further sorry for his drained energy.  
  
Paul hums an easy, understanding acknowledgement and unexpectedly lifts himself up enough to roll aside.  
  
The immediate sense of loss from the departure of the comforting weight of Paul on top of Hugh is soon remedied with the man snuggling tight into the shape of the doctor, putting his arms around the man, in that tender protective way only Paul's arms alone ever have, Hugh appreciates.  
  
"You know, that I love you, Dear, don't you?" the man's most soft, caressing voice speaks into Hugh's ear.  
  
Hugh smiles from his relaxed reverie with mild curious amusement for this sudden - but welcome - love confession, "I do, Mushroom".  
  
"And appreciate everything about you", Paul adds, his hand traveling fondly up along the hilly landscape of the doctor's strong arm. Planet Hugh has a lot of fascinating slopes to explore.  
  
Hugh raises a curios brow, opening his eyes enough to give the peculiarly lovesick man an entertained side glance, "Everything?" A bold claim.  
  
"Everything." Mushroom attests firmly. The good, and the not so good. Perhaps rarely all at once - Paul muses -, but accumulatively, yes: everything.  
  
Hugh regards the man fondly, feeling the journeying hand now on his shoulder, a thumb massaging the irregular contours of the old memory there with the usual gentle attraction. "You continue to show it", Hugh confirms, the man's soft touches all the more stronger on his skin in the doctor's drowsy state.  
  
"But even when I don't." Which is far too often, Paul thinks, ascending into the small, but distinct valley at the base of planet Hugh's neck, rarely **not** surrounded by the extensive silver fencing. It's a precious, private area, worthy of such protection.  
  
"I know, Mushroom", Hugh assures, regarding the fingers, now in their customary position, gently stroking the slender neck, seemingly absentmindedly playing with the necklace with tiny ticklish touches. Hugh smiles at the continued fascination: what must the man be thinking so special there?  
  
Of the man's love Hugh has no doubts. The fact that he can put up with Paul's foulest moods at all is an attestation to the fact that he knows there's love beyond the petty defenses, and the doctor continues to feel grateful for knowing the real man underneath the stern public cover. His private, tender, vulnerable Paul. This exact Paul now keenly on his skin.  
  
"You seem exceptionally lovey tonight, Mushroom", Hugh regards the man now back at necking him enthusiastically, "Any particular reason? Did you inhale a lot of spores today?"  
  
Paul's head rises intrigued from the intoxicating aroma of the planet's atmosphere, "...? Am I usually 'lovey' from inhaling spores?" This is news to him; Paul hadn't ever even considered there could be any possible behavioral effects from his spore exposure.  
  
"I'm not sure. A bit high and excited perhaps?" Hugh considers, and stirs to Paul unexpectedly dislodging himself from his side to sit up and turn his attention to somewhere yonder.  
  
"...but it could just as well be the adrenaline rush from the jumping...", the doctor adds speculating, watching with curiosity as the man now shuffles to the leg end of the bed with sudden determination.  
  
"Well. I haven't been jumping today", Paul remarks from the other side of the bed, while also trying to recall if anything else might've gotten him particularly excited.  
  
"Which is why I thought of the spores...", Hugh comments, distracted by his leg now being lifted up on Paul's lap. "...What are you doing?"  
  
Paul nods in silent contemplation while busy rolling up Hugh's pant leg: both possibilities sound very plausible. He's likely to become more conscious to observing any such possible effects from now on, anyhow.  
  
Paul turns a conspiring smile to the man, who's watching his silent operation with explanation welcoming curiosity. "I thought I'd give you a foot massage", Paul declares, "You've been standing all day, right?"  
  
"Oh, Honey. That sounds divine", Hugh sighs and drops his head back on the pillowy heavens, appreciating the preparations underway, and already feeling the relaxation to his muscles from just having his feet slightly lifted up.  
  
"So? You think Stella might be making me horny?" Paul jests and intertwines his fingers between Hugh's toes to give the foot an opening stretch.  
  
Hugh laughs while thankful for the man's confident touch, "That's not what I was saying".  
  
Paul is still left intrigued by this observation. He doesn't talk about it openly - might've joked with Justin about it once or twice -, but the experience of travelling the network can in fact feel quite orgasmic. For the lack of a better word. So much so that Paul often wishes he could install curtains to the spore chamber. If that could be done without raising questions of motives, and possible objections regarding safety from the team. He would very much welcome some privacy when at his most vulnerable; momentarily out of conscious with his physical reality, flying the cosmos while dozens of pairs of eyes observe him in the throws of who knows what kind of thrill. It's the aspect of his jumps he's least keen for: the public performance.  
  
But apart from a chance by-mention in occasional personal log entries, he's seen no reason to raise up the topic on the nature of the experience, and luckily there hasn't been much inquiry, either; what ever nature the sensation, better not give anyone ideas they could be watching anything more than an officer performing their assigned duty. Which they aren't.  
  
Perhaps he can write about it from the comfort of retirement one day, or when ever it might become relevant to prepare for the Fleet's first Mycelial Navigation training courses, Paul muses, and stirs to the planet writhing under his touch.  
  
"Ooh! That's good", Hugh lets out a long satisfied moan, as Paul's fingers push firmly against his tender sole, the pressure from the massage sending such sweet flashes up along his stiffened muscles, pulling them open.  
  
"Ohh! Right there, Honey", the doctor sighs pleased for the sturdy fingers digging into his flesh. Hugh feels the man's lap shift position under his feet.  
  
Hugh raises his head to get a read on his curiously silent masseur, and is met with a familiarly fascinated pair of tender eyes on him, fiercely open with much of the same expectant keenness which usually manifests in their most passionate moments of shared intimacy.  
  
Hugh regards the man with fond suspicion and drops his head back, away from the exposing stare. "You're not still hoping something to transpire here?" The doctor laughs, now recognizing some of the seductive self-confidence in the man's strokes.  
  
"What? No. I swear, I was just appreciating", Paul replies with innocent nonchalance and averts his gaze, moving his hands up to attend to Hugh's tight calves. "You don't think your man could just want to be nice to you without ulterior motives?" he adds with a hint of feigned hurt in his voice.  
  
"I do, I do", Hugh accepts skeptically, and lets himself relax back into enjoying the treatment, releasing another content sight for the man's broad palms twisting around his locked leg muscles so satisfyingly. Stars, that's good.  
  
"I'm sorry, though", Hugh adds with slight regret in his voice, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling from under his heavy lids, "I'd love to have played with you more. Seeing how you were so eager for it, too."  
  
"Well... some other time", Paul smiles, and hesitates, before adding smugly, "And I won't deny I wouldn't be getting some gratification here, too, hearing you moan like that."  
  
"I knew it!" Hugh laughs for the cheek, and nudges the man playfully with his foot.  
  
"I **didn't deny** getting off on this!" Paul shoots back in jolly defense and pushes the assaulting leg back on his lap. "Just that I don't expect it to lead to anything...", the man adds as an afterthought, his deliberate focus back on attending to the volatile limb.  
  
Hugh regards the man affectionately. "You don't feel you'll be left too tense from any unfulfilled urges?" Another pleased sigh escapes the doctor involuntarily in reply to the man's thumbs now working magic with their well familiar, instinctive circular motions.  
  
"Me? Naw. Can't be helped", Paul replies with a nonchalantly vague dismissal to the very Hugh-like worry, while administering a satisfyingly heavy beating to all the knots he's rubbed tender. "I'm thinking, once I'm done hugging you to sleep I might go beat one off in the shower."  
  
From under the pleasure of the man's handling, Hugh releases a burst of laughter at the endlessly endearing bluntness. "Now **that's** an image to fall asleep to."  
  
"A good one?" Paul queries mischievously, while patting Hugh's legs to mark his job finished.  
  
"I'm not so sure..." Hugh puts on a deliberately intent pondering face, feeling the man roll his pant legs back down with a pleasantly calming rub, "In a way sad, too."  
  
" _'Sad'_?" Paul huffs at the doctor's insolence. "Excuse you!" he exclaims mockingly insulted, crawling across the expanse of the bed, to lie back down next to his beloved, who's currently stretching his newly mended muscles in satisfied contentment.  
  
"I will have you know, Dear Doctor, that I've gotten quite an extensive training to have become most adequately self-sufficient, long before your sexy ass came along", Paul attests with a cocky smirk, while settling himself snugly on close orbit by his darling planet. He juts his finger proudly across the firm plains atop the vastness of _Mons Hugh_ again. "And I can tell you it's far from what I would call 'sad'."  
  
Hugh laughs, agreeing to the evident truth of the words, and for these self-proposed origins to a fact, which he had never thought to seek any rationale for. "I think I can vouch for that. From the fine demonstrations I've gotten", he smiles at his self-educated man.  
  
The man's hands truly have proven impressively agile and attentive precision tools; perfect administrative aids to the keenly honed and tirelessly researched specialist repertoire, Hugh regards, chuckling in his mind for the unassuming way with which the very tools now languidly brush across his abdominal region, with gentle caress, as the man pressed to his side sighs heartachingly contently.  
  
"I love how you smell", Paul whispers adoringly into Darling's ear, burying his face back where it belongs, into the nook of the man's neck, while his fingers explore the unique features of the hilly mid latitudes of his beloved home planet, sledding across the warm terrain contracting under his touch, pleased for the way the planet silently heaves and sighs along his wondrous journey.  
  
"My most beloved heavenly body", Paul mumbles against his kisses now travelling in the rough, well groomed grass along the steep cliffs beyond the planet's neck.  
  
"What?" Hugh chuckles, unsure if he heard correctly the man pecking at his jaw devotedly.  
  
Paul raises his head above the northern atmosphere, to study the planet's most beautiful, deep dark pools below, which stare back at him, first with amused curiosity for the explorer's probable intent, before turning warily serious, registering the raw yearning behind the controlled calm of the intense gaze.  
  
"Honey...?" Hugh whispers unsure, as Paul dives into a hungry kiss. Gentle power of which carries with it whole of the researcher's longing, his care and passion, his hurt, fear, regret, respect, joy, commitment... whole of his love. "Everything", Hugh hears Paul sigh a quiet confirmation into the kiss. And oh, how the man is tender; the doctor finds his uncertainty easily drowning into the kiss, time coming to a halt around them.  
  
The journey further down south has come to a tense stop as well, at the mouth of one of the seductive twin crevasses at opposing longitudes on the pelvic region. The daring voyager is doing it's customary maneuvers of small round lapses against the wall of the formation anxiously, as if awaiting news from the north to go on ahead and steer the expedition down the rift leading to the most fertile lands, beyond the barricades of decency.

Such news are not to come, however.  
  
"Mushroom...", Hugh mumbles a regretful heed against the lingering lips of a man seemingly frozen on top of him.  
  
"I know...", Paul mutters from somewhere beyond. "I'm stopping...", he promises hesitantly between each small, savoring kiss, "I'm stopping...".

Reluctantly he withdraws; a thirsty man turning away from an oasis.  
  
"Sorry", Paul murmurs, the expedition making it's swift retreat off-planet, as he lies back down besides Hugh.  
  
"What ever for?" Hugh turns his side to face the abashed man with understanding affection, "for such a perfect goodnight kiss?"  
  
Paul presses his forehead against the fondly smiling man's and releases a weary sigh. Right. A good, deep, goodnight kiss, Paul's eyes smile faintly at the doctor's warm regard. The expedition lies low across it's own native lands now, afraid should their adventurous enthusiasm further disturb the rest of the beloved neighboring body.  
  
Hugh strokes the fluff of Paul's arm adoringly and coaxes the man's hand out of it's hideout under the crossed arms.  
  
"Come on, Mushroom", Hugh takes the arm and rolls around away from the man, guiding the limb to fold over him like a blanket, "you said you were going to hug me to sleep."  
  
Paul hums an acknowledgement from behind the man, and tries to discreetly shift his hips away from the planet wanting to be held in closest possible orbit. "Just let it rest against me", Hugh murmurs perceptively to the hesitating man, and insists on settling his back tightly along Paul's curves; the soft and the stubborn.

 _"Rest"_? If it only would, Paul muses and accepts the invite of the man pressing on him. Hugh lets out a small, pleased sigh for the familiar nudge.  
  
"Will you stay, and hold me through the night?" Hugh asks hopeful in the drowsiness starting to flush over him, loving the cuddly body finding it's place against his back.  
  
Paul hums another vague acknowledgement, his arms still trying to position themselves to comfortably accommodate the augmentations against Hugh's skin.  
  
"I might want to be woken up like after our first night", Hugh murmurs from the verge of consciousness, remembering the bliss of rousing to these fluffy arms around him protecting his sleep, and opening his eyes to the fetching blue gaze revealing a soul yearning to show him the extend of it's love after a night of carefully tantalizing exploration of their newly fascinating bodies.  
  
Fascination, which remains alive and well still; Paul's arms feel like they've finally found calm gracing grounds to rest upon.  
  
"Can I go here?" Paul whispers next to the doctor's ear, emboldened again by the encouraging recollection. The gentle explorer burrows under the soft fabric covering the southern regions of planet Hugh, settling a camp on the tranquil, low plains on the edge of the most exciting forest, where the warm ground heaves and pulsates soft echoes from all the distant regions of the wonderful planet in a restful rhythm.  
  
Hugh smiles from his dream haze and brings his hands on top of Paul's comforting caress, relishing the embrace of the man around him.  
  
"If you promise never to leave", the sleepy planet whispers back to soothe the restless journeyer, as the two heavenly bodies slowly drift into the silence of the night, inseparable.

[ ](https://jmalkki.tumblr.com/image/171076351644)

_"Riding Along". Paul taking in Hugh's pleasure, whilst likening the sensation to traversing the network.  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Another completely ex tempore quickie. Brain trying to balance the previously concocted [explicit one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278221), I suppose. Though, it would do best by completing some of the old, unfinished ones with possibly a tad more substance to them. (It did try, but those seem almost as much a mess now as they did... what, couple years ago now? *gah* Little by little...)
> 
> For those getting tired of the pendant (my useless self-awareness alone?), I felt I needed to present a theory as to why the piece might not be on Hugh in the ["On Call"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837338) pic, but put aside on the night stand instead. An old anomaly, which has remained unaddressed... not that anyone would've necessarily noticed to wonder.
> 
> I also had no idea where to place this in order, between all of the 'behind the scenes intimacies' that these seasonal narratives tend to be. I originally thought this would perhaps come much earlier, but see now how it has certain value at this significant position, before the (current) most unfortunate next one. Although, obviously there would still be a lot of hustle after this, before the events of the next - just canonically alone.  
> 
> 
> _[**tumblr**](http://jmalkki.tumblr.com/) | [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/Jemppu) | [**instagram**](https://www.instagram.com/jeminamalkki/) | [**DeviantArt**](https://www.deviantart.com/jemppu)_


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